


the son and the sea

by poalimal



Category: Avengers: Infinity War (2018), Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: A Sea That Is Not A Sea, Amnesia, Gen, Genderqueerness?, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Snippet, Spoilers, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 18:17:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14550525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poalimal/pseuds/poalimal
Summary: 'King, queen, servant or slave. What does it matter? In death you are all the same.'





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

They were almost done with that day's haul when the stranger broke through the surface of the water nearby, coughing and gasping and struggling to stay afloat.

After a few moments of watching the stranger thrash and sink, Mama G slowly and painstakingly began to drag the net back into the boat, away from him. The harsh sound of her wheezing filled the sea air, and beneath her fisher's rags, her tail looked frail and bony. Something in Son wanted to help her - but they could not seem to look away from the drowning stranger.

The stranger must've seen their boat, Son figured. But he did not call out for help, not even as the sea and all its fishes tried to swallow him. In fact he seemed to be swimming further away.

Water rose up over the stranger's head, again and again. Each time it took him longer and longer to emerge. Son could see that he was tiring; soon it would be night, soon his strength would fail.

And then it would be time to feed.

Son turned to look at Mama G and found her paused over the edge of the boat, half of the net already tangled at two of her feet. The stranger dipped once more beneath the waves and did not re-surface.

But Mama G was not looking at him. She was looking at Son.

'Please,' they said softly. Their voice was rough from disuse. They had not spoken in nearly two suns.

Again the stranger broke through to the surface, gasping loudly for breath.

Mama G sucked her teeth hard and began muttering to herself, that tricky little curse-song that Son had long given up trying to figure out the meter of: 'This child / will be / the death / of me. All day / I toil; / all day / they eat.'

She shot Son a quick warning look as she rolled up the sleeves of her fisher's rags all the way up to her thin shoulders. Son took two generous steps back. Mama G billowed out her chest and, with one mighty heave, threw the net back into the sea. The net gleamed golden in the sinking sun, reaching out impossibly far till it stretched all the way over the stranger.

'Yes,' Son whispered to themself, deeply relieved. He was safe now; they would not let him suffer.

But the stranger began to panic, struggling and fighting beneath the net.

 _Idiot_. 'Grab onto it!' Son shouted, as Mama G began pulling the stranger in, her many arms bulging with effort. The stranger began to thrash even more, trying to swim out from under the net. Son would've told him not to bother, that nothing could be freed once caught by the net.

But then the stranger emerged from the water once more, dragged close to the boat by Mama G, and he looked right at Son.

He went still beneath the net, his face wiped clean with shock. Water sluiced down his face, over his eyes, his nose; his mouth. He must have been hiding his horns, Son figured, staring back; and he seemed to have a very unusual number of arms.

Still. He was very beautiful.

Then he opened his lips - Son leaned closer over the edge of the boat, transfixed by the shape of his mouth - and spoke.

[    ]? he said.

He must've been very powerful, for Son's world went ringing dark and silent. They staggered backwards and nearly fell over. When they came back to themself it felt like years had passed, but it could have only been moments. For the stranger was now in the boat, glaring down at Mama G, two-armed and two-legged, covered in nothing but red burns from the teeth of free fish.

Son ran their tongue over the back of their suddenly aching teeth. It would be time to eat soon enough, they told themself. This stranger was no fish, he would make no good meal. Son shook their head slowly, trying to shake the hearing in their head loose again.

'--me free,' the stranger was saying.

Mama G laughed. 'You are perfectly free to jump right back into the water where you came from, my child,' she said.

'I am no child of yours, demon,' said the stranger. 'I am a King. And I must get back. My people need me.'

He was not, Son thought to themself, acting very grateful.

'King, queen, servant or slave,' Mama G said peaceably, winding the net back in. 'What does it matter? In death you are all the same. You are no burden of mine. Look to your master, King.' And then she disappeared below the deck, to string up the net for drying.

King did not watch her go, but instead turned and began to glare at Son. Truly he must be powerful, to make Son feel so weak-kneed.

[    ], he said. And Son's head went ringing again. They squeezed their eyes shut, and had to lean over hard to keep their balance.

'King, please,' they gasped. 'Please stop.' When finally they caught their breath and stood up again, King was looking at them in furrowed confusion.

'You call me King,' said King. 'You do not know me?'

What an odd question. Son looked at him dizzily, and realised he meant it in earnest. 'Mama G calls you King, so you are King,' they explained. 'Mama G calls me Son, so I am Son.'

King came closer, looking Son all over. Evidently looking back at him offended him, and made him wreak his magic. So Son swallowed their curiosity and fear and stared out straight at the water.

All over the sea, they could see the lanterns lighting. They would have to start their route soon. Somehow it was difficult to focus on that distant work.

Close like this, King made Son's teeth ache terribly. They could not remember a time when they had felt so hungry.

'Your covering is very fine,' said King, finally. Son smiled at him unthinkingly, then averted their eyes when King looked back at them, startled. 'Ah... do you have anything like it that I could wear?'

'No,' said Son, gesturing to their skirts, 'these were-- a gift.' Really, they had made it themselves - but they felt embarrassed to admit something so boastful.

'You will have to make do with this, King,' said Mama G, reappearing up the stairs and onto the upperdeck. She carried among her top arms a liquid kaftan, made of smoke and flame and sky.

Son watched King pour it on, smiling absently until Mama G swatted them on the back of the head.

'Ow!' they hissed, embarrassed. They glanced at King, relieved to see he did not appear to be paying attention to them. 'Ma-ma, I was just--'

'Don't just stand there with your tongue out!' Mama G said sharply. 'Make yourself useful. Ready the sails. The sooner we finish our route, the sooner we eat.'

Son dutifully went to open up the sails, worries and thoughts melting away as they did so. This was probably their favourite part of the day, when the sea was dusking and dimming down silent, and the wind dried the day's sweat from their face.

'Where are we going?' asked King. Son nearly jumped. King lurched back away from them (looking extremely fine in his kaftan), trying to keep to his feet. 'I did not mean to startle you,' he said apologetically. 'I said your name - but I do not think you heard me.'

Son swallowed. 'We're going to go make deliveries,' they said. 'All day long, we catch fish. Then at night, we give the fish to the people, 'cus they're hungry. And then we eat whatever's left over.' Simple.

King turned from them to stare out at the sea. Son tried to see it from his eyes: shining sky-water and lighting lanterns as far as the eye could see. Beautiful. But King just looked depressed.

Maybe he was hungry? Son nudged King before his expression got too bleak. 'You can have some of my dinner,' they offered. 'If you want.'

But this, too, seemed to offend King somehow. 'No flesh of this world shall pass my lips,' he said coolly. And then he disappeared back to the front of the boat again to... yell at Mama G some more, it sounded like.

Son remained at their task and tugged the sails toward a westerly wind. Their first delivery tonight was in the Northwest Sector. They tried out a whistle - their work tune, Mama G called it - but didn't feel up to continuing when the wet on their lips dried out.

It took them a while to figure out that what they were feeling was _irritation_. Would it kill King to show a bit of fucking gratitude? They'd just saved him from becoming someone else's meal!

And now, Son realised, they were stuck with him. Suddenly the look Mama G had sent them earlier made much more sense. They couldn't very well dump King over the edge of the boat because he was _annoying_.

'I do not care what you say, demon,' King was shouting. Who taught him to raise his voice like that at his elders? 'I will find my way out of this hell, I will find my way back to my home. And I will be taking my cousin back with me!'

At least it sounded like he had family somewhere nearby, Son consoled themself. Maybe they'd be able to find this cousin of King's and foist him off on them. Let him be _their_ problem.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Ten-and-ten-more routes they passed together, but King would not eat, King would not sleep - and King would not call them Son.

'I do not care what that demon has named you,' he said. 'You are not _my_ son, at least.'

'You keep saying that word,' said Son. They had given up on hoping that King would one day explain. ' _Demon_. What does it mean?' It did not, they thought, seem to be much of a compliment.

'A demon,' said King, 'is a person who... is no longer human. A person who can handle a soul... collect it or consume it.'

Son bit their lip. What is a human? they wondered. What is a soul? They were tired of this strange language King insisten on speaking, tired of being trapped at once on the inside and outside of it.

But King explained anyway. This, too, annoyed Son. 'A human is,' he paused. 'A being of limits. If we do not eat, we die. If we do not sleep, we die. If we do not breathe, we die.'

 _We_ , he said. So he was one of them? Perhaps that was the reason Tanti Nowe teased him so much about the smell of his blood. Maybe it was down to magic.

Son shook their head, trying to understand. 'What is death, then?' Did he mean being eaten?

'All of this is death,' said King softly. His hand gestured at the sea around them; the dipping of the boat beneath them; the endless blue sky above. 'These fish are not truly fish, these people are not truly people. You are collecting souls to be eaten by demons. And you are becoming one yourself with every soul that you eat.'

Ahh. And now his 'we' made sense.

Son laughed quietly. 'You are not trying to say,' their shoulders shook, 'you are not trying to say that, what, I was once a thing like you? What are you, then? A thing that does not eat, that does not sleep, that does not breathe, that does nothing but insult my people--'

' _I_ am your people,' said King, catching them by the throat. Son went very still. 'And you are mine.'

'What,' said Son lowly, leaning into his grasp, 'would you show me this death because I do not agree? Come then, King. Water's right there. How bout it?'

King bared his teeth, unblinking. 'You are so--'

Son showed off their teeth, too, grinning. King wanted to play this game? They could play. 'So what? Say it.'

'--infuriating,' King snapped, yanking their mouths together.

Eishh. Trust King to find the worst moment to get hungry. 'I am not food, human,' Son said crossly, pushing him off with all three hands. They turned on their feet, intent on going down to the stores. 'If you wanted to eat, you should've just said so.'

After a moment, King followed after them, silent and staring. As always. Son sighed out gustily, and balanced their way down to light the lamps.

'If I wanted to show someone in this place affection,' said King, quietly, 'how would I do so?'

Affection. Affection?

'Sweetness,' King translated, 'and yearning.'

Son looked back over their shoulder, slant-eyed. They took in the purse of King's lips with a scowl. 'Well, don't insult their people, to begin with.' King looked upwards, as he often did when the two of them spoke. Tuh! 'Otherwise, you would touch _your_ horns to _their_ horns. Gently. But then,' said Son smugly, turning back to the cabinets, 'you do not have any. _Human_.' And they turned their face to the side and stuck out their tongue.

'Oh, is that for me?' King asked, bloodmild. Son curled their tongue back behind their teeth and scowled. They wondered if all humans had such a grotesque sense of humour, or if King was just unique.

They wondered, too, who King wanted to make affection with. Mama G? Son scoffed to themselves. Yea, right.

Maybe someone on their route had caught his eye. Apparently he did not dislike these people he called demons that mu--

'E,' King called.

Son turned to the side, watching the lamp cast dim, strange shapes on the wall. They heard, they listened; and then they became someone else.

'When I am with you alone,' said the human, 'you will be E to me.'

 

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure this is worth the effort of continuing. Just liked the idea of Erik preening over his horns. And the idea of T'Challa still being alive somewhere (in a sense.)


End file.
